Birds of a Feather
by Pixiestick-cc
Summary: Beatrice/Wirt drabbles. Nothing more. Nothing less
1. Not a Christmas Present

**Not a Christmas Present**

Beatrice had her arms crossed across her chest to express how she felt, which was, well, cross. "Wirt, I thought we agreed we wouldn't exchange Christmas gifts. I hate Christmas. It's just a superficial holiday trying to be something important when it's really just an excuse for people to be rude and obnoxious and-"

"Terrible human beings … yes, I know. You've told me many times," Wirt sighed, still holding the tiny box with a red bow on top, in his outstretched hand for Beatrice to take. "Can't you just let me give you this? No strings attached. We don't even have to say it's a Christmas present. Say it's a, um… uh,"

"A what?" Beatrice offered, toning down the annoyance in her voice. Wirt was having difficulty speaking, because of nervousness and even if she was irritated, she hated when he felt insecure around her.

"An … I love you present."

Wirt had a pained expression on his face, like he was dying of mortification. His cheeks were red and even if she had heard him correctly, Beatrice still was shocked enough to ask him, "A what?"

"Don't make me say it again. This is so awkward," Wirt replied, his voice cracking near the end.

"No, no … it's okay. I'll take it." Beatrice took the tiny box from his hand and tried to ignore her own embarrassment at the situation. She wasn't embarrassed, because he had said it. She was embarrassed that she had been so irritated beforehand. What a way to bring about your boyfriend's first real declaration of love. After opening the box, she peered down into it to see a tiny bluebird Christmas ornament. "Wirt, this is the definition of a Christmas present. I can't use this any other time, but at Christmas." Beatrice laughed.

Wirt's only response was a loud groan.

"But that's okay. It's perfect," she said. "I might hate Christmas, but I love you too." Then she bent down slightly to kiss him on the lips. Their first kiss. By the time she pulled away both of them were blushing profusely. "And that can be my Christmas present to you," she smiled.


	2. Empty Bed

**Empty Bed**

They were leaning against the foot of Wirt's bed, watching the small TV on his dresser across the room. Leaning against and not sitting on his bed, because there were house rules for girls in Wirt's room and one was the bed was off limits. Not that his mom or stepdad were even aware that Wirt had a girlfriend who sometimes came over on Saturday nights when they were out, but that was the excuse he'd given Beatrice. She just lumped it in with all the things that made Wirt different and didn't really question it.

"Can I jump on it?" she had joked.

"Sure, I guess," he replied. "But I thought you were the older one in this relationship."

"You're never too old to jump on a bed," Beatrice had laughed and now whenever she was over his girlfriend would take a few seconds to bounce up and down on his mattress just to mess with him. He found it funny and also annoying.

The truth was Beatrice sitting or lying or _anything_ on his bed wasn't something he was mentally prepared for, so he told her it was off limits, because of rules set by his parents. But he already wasn't following their rules by having a girl over while he was babysitting his brother. No, he followed the bed rule for his own reasons. It was his rule now, but he would never mention that to Beatrice. He could only see it going two ways. She would laugh, say what a nerd he was and realize her relationship with him was completely not worth her time. Or she would smile, say he was adorable (she did that a lot) and tell him it wasn't a big deal. Wirt didn't know which theory was the correct one, so he didn't test it and that was the reason he was sitting with Beatrice on the floor and not the bed while watching _It's A Wonderful Life_.

Her head was leaning against his shoulder and he could feel her breath falling onto the skin of his neck every time she exhaled. Although, after awhile, that breathing changed from soft and delicate to heavy and labored and it dawned on Wirt that it had been a while since Beatrice had commented on the movie or said anything at all. He lifted his shoulder slightly to jolt her and asked, "Beatrice, are you asleep?"

"I was," she grumbled.

"What? How can you sleep through this movie? It's a classic." Wirt sounded offended.

Beatrice yawned and moving away from Wirt she stretched her arms. "Because it's boring." Her tone was mater-of-fact.

"Obviously you don't know good Christmas cinema like I do," Wirt replied raising his eyebrows and crossing his arms across his chest to stare her down.

"Pfft, yes I do. Let's watch that _Elf_ one again." Beatrice went diving into the pile of DVDs that they had scattered across the floor earlier while looking for _It's a Wonderful Life_.

Wirt groaned. "We've watched that three times already."

"Because it's so great! _Santa, I know him!_" Beatrice exclaimed and then abandoning her search for _Elf_, she tackled Wirt to the ground. They wrested for a while, before he wiggled out of her hold and stood up.

"I don't think we have time for another movie. My parents are going to be home soon and … you know what that means." Wirt said, disappointing Beatrice. "I have to have time to walk you back to the garden wall and get back here before they do."

"Time for me to disappear into the night," she sighed.

"You can change back into your dress. I'll go tell Greg we're leaving. Hopefully he's still watching cartoons and not destroying the house." Wirt said and left the room.

Beatrice never liked to wear her own clothes while hanging out with him, opting instead to change into Wirt's sweat shirt and pants, a luxury they didn't have on her side of the wall. He didn't mind, especially, since those clothes always smelled like her after she was gone. It was a nice bit of nostalgia for him during the times when Beatrice wasn't around.

When Wirt entered his room again, he saw that Beatrice was back in the dress she had come in, but didn't acknowledge his presence. Instead her eyes were fixated on something above his bed's headboard. Coming to stand beside his girlfriend, Wirt asked, "Are you ready?"

Beatrice turned her head to look at him, a mischievous grin on her face. "Wirt, why did you tape mistletoe on the wall above your bed? Are you trying to tell me something?"

Wirt hadn't put any mistletoe anywhere, but just like Beatrice said, there was some taped above his bed. He could only think of one person who would do that and she was standing right next to him. "Ha Ha. Nice try," he laughed sarcastically.

"I didn't put it there," Beatrice replied.

"Cut it out, Beatrice," Wirt said dismissively. He didn't like that he sounded annoyed, but it was better she hear that in his voice than the embarrassment flooding him. He moved away from Beatrice to open his door, but she turned around and grasped his hand in hers before he could.

"Wirt, I didn't do that and I don't know why you're putting me in this position. This isn't funny."

Wirt's cheeks were flushing red and with a sigh, he turned to Beatrice. He didn't want to fight with her and could see that she was upset and so, with all the strength he could muster he tried to lift his girlfriend up into his arms like he had seen done so many times in so many movies. But Wirt wasn't in a movie and was significantly smaller than your average A-list heartthrob. Down he crashed to the ground taking Beatrice along with him.

"What are you doing?" she asked Wirt, exasperated.

"I was trying to carry you to the bed to kiss you. That's what I thought you wanted."

They were both sitting on the floor now and Wirt placed his head in his hands, hoping that maybe it would make time stop. But the soft touch of Beatrice removing one of his hands to reveal a side of his face, convinced Wirt to let the other fall into his lap. "Wirt," her voice was gentle. "No matter what you think, I did not put that milestone up there and I'm starting to think you didn't either. I thought you did it as a joke, but I suppose that would be more something I'd do. It doesn't matter, though. We don't have to do anything if you're uncomfortable with it. The bed is off limits. I get it."

"But I'm not uncomfortable … it's house rules," he protested even though it was a lie.

Beatrice sent him a look that told him she wasn't buying it. "Okay, nerd."

Wirt glowered, which made Beatrice laugh. He loved her laugh, and her … and at that particular moment he wanted nothing more than give his girlfriend a kiss. Wirt slowly leaned in and picking up on his cue, Beatrice mimicked his movements until their lips met. His arms came out to reach around her waist and she moved hers around his neck and before long they were laying on the floor again, locked in a kiss that lasted several minutes. "See we don't need a bed," Beatrice softly laughed after they separated.

Wirt replied with another kiss, but scrambled away from Beatrice when he heard the door to his room open. It was too late though, Greg had already seen them. "Oh wow. Mom _was_ right. Mistletoe does make people kiss."

"Greg?!" Wirt responded angrily. "Did you put that in my room?"

He smiled, completely oblivious of Wirt's irritation. "Just wanted to see if it was true."

Beatrice laughed and Wirt rolled his eyes. "Come on, let's get Beatrice home," he said, taking hold of his girlfriend's hand, their fingers lacing.

"I'll lead the way!" Greg exclaimed, running from the room with Beatrice and Wirt trailing behind him.


	3. Road Trip

**Road Trip**

"I'm not getting into that thing with you," Beatrice stated firmly and crossed her arms across her chest.

"Why not?" Wirt mimicked her crossed arms pose and the two stood in front of each other, determination written across their faces, but each for a different goal. Wirt to have his girlfriend ride in his new albeit used car and Beatrice to live to see another day.

"If I get in there I will die," she stated flatly.

Wirt rolled his eyes. "Stop being so dramatic. You won't die. The guy I bought this from was old. He said he only drove it to and from the grocery store for years."

"Wirt, it's not the car I'm worried about. I watched you learn how to drive and … you suck." Beatrice kissed Wirt gently on the lips to help soften the blow, but he wasn't having it.

"I didn't suck enough that the state didn't give me my license," he countered.

"There must have been a technicality. They felt sorry for you."

Wirt wanted to argue more, but didn't see how that would help his cause. Arguing with Beatrice always had the opposite effect of what he was trying accomplish. Instead he reached into his car and pulled out a cassette tape, handing it to Beatrice. "Hey, guess what?" he said. "This car is such an old model that it still has a cassette player and I made a tape just for our little road trip."

Beatrice looked over the tape and lingered on the words _Beatrice and Wirt's Road Trip_ written in pen across the front. "What's on it?" she asked.

"Mostly The Beach Boys. I was going to take you to the beach and obviously by their name they sing a lot of uh … beach songs." Wirt rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

Beatrice raised an eyebrow. "What about Kesha?"

Wirt's response was a loud groan. "No, there isn't any Kesha on here, but to make you happy I also brought this." Wirt opened the driver's side door again and pulled out another cassette tape labeled_ Pop Songs for Bea that I Hate_. "Here." Wirt dropped the tape into his girlfriend's hands.

"Yes!" Beatrice exclaimed loudly just to annoy Wirt and he gave her a look that over the course of their relationship she had learned meant - are you done now?

"Okay, I'll go with you on one condition," Beatrice offered.

"What's that?"

"That I get to play DJ." Beatrice winked at him.

Wirt let out a loud sigh that Beatrice felt was a little unnecessary. "Okay," he finally agreed.

"And also," she added. "You have to keep me alive."


	4. Nightly Rituals

This came out full of angst and I rarely write angst, so I'm not sure why, but that's the direction this prompt wanted to take me.

Post Canon by a few years. AU-ish

Prompt from tumblr: **Nightly Routine for Beatrice and Wirt**

* * *

><p>It had become a nightly ritual. A nightly one, because Beatrice always waited till the last second to wake up in the morning. Barely able to choke down large mouthfuls of a granola bar, while racing out the door for a job she was habitual late for, left little room for her to focus on the afterthoughts of life. But at night there was time; time to think about and stare at the ugliness. She was the only member of her family that had them, painful reminders of a mistake that would forever be etched into her back. Every night she would undress in front of the floor length mirror in her bedroom, turn around and gaze behind to see the long, pink, iridescent lines. There were two that began at each shoulder blade and ended halfway down her back. They deviated from a straight path at times, with small branches that broke off to create their own trails. The darkness of the pink had faded over time, but not all the way. It was the curse. She could be human again, but never forget that there once had been wings where those scars were now. They were reminders of what she had done. They were her burden to bear.<p>

It had become a nightly ritual for him. The first time Wirt came in to see Beatrice staring at her scars, he had tried to console her, and reminded her that she wasn't that person anymore, the one whose cruelty had earned her those marks. But no matter what he said, it never stopped her from looking and remembering. Maybe that was the point of the curse. She wouldn't ever be able to forget and Wirt slowly understood that it wasn't in his power to fight that type of magic. He was just an ordinary man in love in an extraordinary woman who happened to be plagued by a curse. He could only be there for her and without a word, every night, he would hold Beatrice. He would stay this way, his arms firmly around her, until she was able to walk away from the guilt and remember that the curse did not own her, that no matter what had happened before, his love for her would always overshadow that.


End file.
